


When Convenience is Desireable

by Zombubble



Series: Tumblr Drabbles and Prompts [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Drabbles, Emperor Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Prince Victor Nikiforov, a quick thing, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 07:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombubble/pseuds/Zombubble
Summary: An arranged marriage between Russia's second prince and the Emperor of Japan could end up being an exercise in overcoming reluctance, were it not exactly what both parties had wanted to begin with.





	When Convenience is Desireable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tearsandice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tearsandice/gifts).



> **Prompt from[@tearsandice:](https://tearsandice.tumblr.com/)** A prompt? How about some Royalty Viktuuri fluff? Go crazy with it,just make it royalty and super fluffy and cute.
> 
> I did my best!!!!!! And here we are. Thanks for prompting me!!

Pulling his cloak around him, the Emperor of Japan shivers in the cold. He supposes he should have accounted for this, he’s long known he’d be visiting Russia’s imperial family in the winter and that Moscow would be bitterly cold, but he hadn’t braced himself for the weather and now he’s suffering for it. It’s alright, though– soon enough, they’ll be at the Imperial Palace where he’s meeting the second son of the Empress of Russia. Soon enough, he’ll be warm again. Sighing, he stares at the snow-blanketed streets as the carriage he’s in pulls into the driveway for the large palace, taking its sweet time getting closer to the doors. 

Finally, it arrives, and he has to resist hopping out. He’s excited. He’s  _incredibly_ excited to be here, and the smile he sees on the Empress’s face says she knows. At last his door is opened and he’s able to step out, long robes of Japan’s traditional clothing flowing behind him as he walks up the steps. The Empress smiles and nods, holding her hand out and Yuuri shakes it before glancing at her children. Dutifully, they all bow to him and with the younger of the twins he shares a knowing glance. They won’t have time until later, but he’s counting the very seconds until the end of dinner.

Relieved of his cloak in the foyer, he shakes his shoulders, happy to have the weight off them, and once the servants have taken the cloaks of the Imperial Family as well, he walks at the Empress’ side down the hall.

“I appreciate your hospitality, Empress Alexandra,” he says.

She laughs softly. “Your Imperial Majesty is most welcome in our halls, your bond with my son notwithstanding.”

Cheeks slightly pink, Yuuri nods. The bond of which she speaks is an engagement, officially for political benefit to both families but unofficially, he’d been courting the tsarevich for months. Back then, before the assassination, both he and the tsarevich had been princes– first and second in line for the throne in their respective countries– and had, through correspondence, grown to love each other dearly. 

When a Russian assassin had elevated Yuuri from Crown Prince to Emperor, they’d scrambled to keep relations with Russia’s Imperial Family from dissolving into a war, and a marriage had been proposed. Prince Alexei was out of the question as Russia’s next Tsar, but his younger twin brother, Viktor was more than happy to step forward as a candidate for Japan’s King Consort. Papers had been drawn up for this visit, and here is where they’ll confirm their engagement. Prince Viktor will return to Japan with Yuuri, the wedding will be in a year, and they’ll have the happily-ever-after they’d never dreamed could happen.

As the family’s guest, Yuuri sits at the head of the table, in between the Empress and the Crown Prince. The Empress’ wife sits next to her, and Viktor sits next to his brother, but both are too far for Yuuri to make conversation. Speeches are made, toasts are proposed, and the five-course meal goes slower than Yuuri’d anticipated, but once they’re done he’s free to retreat to his rooms.

He does so as soon as he politely can.

As he walks through the halls, escorted by a footman, he looks around. Though no more lavish than his palace at home, the palace here is decorated with gold and plaster relief and Yuuri finds it hard to take in as he moves. Approaching the hall to his wing, though, he hears quick footsteps behind him.

“I can handle this,” Prince Viktor says as he comes up next to Yuuri. “Vashe Imperatorskoye Velichestvo,” he says, bowing briefly as propriety dictates.

“Your Imperial Highness,” Yuuri says in return, nodding. The footman bows to both of them, before walking off.

They can’t embrace in the halls, it’s too familiar and Yuuri’s a visiting monarch being guided by a second prince, but the walk together is spent in comfortable silence. Approaching the doors to the rooms Yuuri will be using, they’re met by two footmen who bow and open the doors, holding them until Yuuri and Viktor are well through.

Once they’re in private, Yuuri feels himself pushed back against a bookcase as Viktor presses their lips together almost desperately. Hands slip under coats, fingers run through hair, and they relish the contact they have with each other as they kiss. Breathless and wanting, they don’t separate, not even when Yuuri pushes the prince briefly away in order to push  _him_  back against the shelves, running his fingers through his long locks.

“Tsarevich Viktor,” he says after a few moments.

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty?”

For some reason, Yuuri forgets what he was going to say and merely smiles, kissing Viktor again. “You’ll be returning with me,” he says softly.

“I will,” Viktor replies. “My things are packed. I’ve said some goodbyes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” Viktor looks down at him, meeting his eyes. “Yuuri, what are you sorry for?”

With one shoulder, Yuuri shrugs, and Viktor sighs. “I’m happy. I am. I love you, and… and we’ve wanted this for so long. Years we’ve been wanting to get married and now we  _are.”_

“Somehow I didn’t realize I’d be taking you from everything you love.”

“Not everything,” Viktor says, leaning down to kiss him. “You’re not taking me from you. You’re giving yourself to me, I’ll have you for the rest of my life. It’s more than enough trade-off for staying here. I’ve always known that being with you would mean leaving Russia.”

“Always?”

Nodding, Viktor presses another kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. “Yes, of course. I’m the second son of the Empress, and my brother’s already expecting his first child. You were always first in line. You were always going to have to stay in Japan.”

“Glad to see one of us thought this through.” Sighing, Yuuri tugs at the fasteners on his haori, pulling it off and draping it over a nearby chair. His boots come next, set neatly next to the door and as he slips his socked feet into slippers he sighs.

“‘Thought this through’? Are… Your Imperial Majesty, are you having regrets?” Somehow Viktor looks more nervous than Yuuri would have expected and between that and the use of Yuuri’s title it’s clear he’s not just teasing. Almost childlike, Viktor seems to await his answer with trepidation and Yuuri jumps to ease his nerves.

“No, no! I’m… I just didn’t realize the implications, Vitya,” he says. “I… I didn’t mean to take you from your home.”

“Home is with you,” Viktor replies without hesitation. “I love my family, don’t get me wrong, but my status in Russia is falling and being called ‘the Spare’ by my people gets grating, on occasion.”

Yuuri knows it’s far more than ‘on occasion’, and every bit of correspondence Viktor has sent has only indicated his excitement at the upcoming move. It’s with this that Yuuri tries to console himself, to remind himself that Viktor had jumped at the chance rather than reluctantly agreement to the proposed marriage, and when Viktor cups his cheek in his palm, Yuuri nods.

“I love you,” he says, and it still sounds like a confession even though he’s said the words often enough that it isn’t.

“I love you, too,” Viktor replies. “I’ve liked you since we first met and I’ve loved you since you fell into that snowdrift.

Yuuri snorts. He’d still been Crown Prince at that point, and he’d been taking the time to explore the extensive gardens of the Imperial Palace. It wasn’t quite his fault that the far reaches of the gardens were more uneven and less cared-for than the areas closer to the palace, but it  _had_  been his fault that he’d been walking along the top of a low wall.

The Tsarevich  _had_  seen his unfortunate plunge into an adjacent snowdrift, and had fished him out while trying to stifle laughter. Once it was clear Yuuri was merely embarrassed rather than offended, they’d shared a laugh, and Viktor had put his coat over Yuuri’s now-soaked shoulders. It had been the start of Yuuri’s crush. Every time he’d seen the Imperial Family’s second prince, he’d fallen just a bit further. He’s not sure if it’s the way Viktor carries himself– strong, authoritative, and somehow still friendly. He’s not sure if it’s the ease with which Viktor approaches court interactions or the way his smile seems to light up the room.

He’s not sure if it’s the Prince’s kind heart, love for his people, and determination to do right in what areas he can, though Yuuri suspects this is a large part of things.

Regardless, they’re in love– very much so– and Yuuri doesn’t regret their first kiss, shared in an alcove at the palace in Hasetsu on the occasion of Mari’s birthday. She hadn’t suspected anything at the time, but the palace staff had remarked on the large amount of correspondence from Yuuri to Russia’s Second Son in the weeks following. 

 

Crawling into bed together should feel more scandalous than it does, but the only reason Yuuri’s here in the first place is to formally confirm their engagement, which is well-known at this point. Soft, Viktor’s fingers brush across Yuuri’s cheek, through his hair, down his face until Viktor’s thumb brushes his lip.

“We’re getting married,” Yuuri whispers.

“For the good of Russia and Japan,” Viktor replies.

“For love,” Yuuri corrects. “I don’t know that I’d… if it was anyone else, I…”

Eyes shining, Viktor leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. “I wouldn’t want it either,” he murmurs. 

**Author's Note:**

> Still taking prompts on tumblr/twitter (via DM). You can find me on [tumblr,](https://we-call-everything-katsudon.tumblr.com/) [twitter (sometimes nsfw),](https://twitter.com/zombubble) and [pillowfort.](https://www.pillowfort.io/Zombubble)


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